


don’t you worry there my honey

by sonhoedesrazao



Series: Skam ficlets [7]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, domestic boys being domestic as shit, post s4 ep 6, tea as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonhoedesrazao/pseuds/sonhoedesrazao
Summary: “Did you have fun with Sana?” Even asks when they break apart.





	don’t you worry there my honey

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [You and I](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdEN1b-dwlw), by Ingrid Michaelson. Read on [Tumblr](http://sonhoedesrazao.tumblr.com/post/161178866323/dont-you-worry-there-my-honey-did-you-have-fun)!
> 
> You can also find a Russian translation [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5595369)!

“Did you have fun with Sana?” Even asks when they break apart.

He’s hugging Isak’s waist, Isak’s arms around his neck, as they stand in the middle of the apartment. It never ceases to amaze—sometimes unsettle—Isak how much he misses Even, no matter how long he’s gone. A day. A few hours. Ten minutes. Every time they meet again, Isak needs to kiss him for a while to make the yearning ease up. He feels a bit like a puppy—no perception of time and always equally excited to see their human, a thought that is embarrassingly accurate and that he told Even once, to his delight.

The feeling is reciprocated, though, which makes it less embarrassing and more… pleasant.

So when Even returns from work, they shared a lazy kiss. It’s their apartment and there’s no one to walk in them—no Eskild to take pictures, no Linn to shuffle past or Noora to startle.

“Fun, Even?” he repeats. “I’m _fucked_. She literally had to correct everything I said. I’m going to fail and…”

Even laughs. “That can’t be. I told you, you’re a genius.”

“Me? A genius? I can’t even make tea.”

Even frowns. “What?”

“Ahh, Sana,” Isak fumbles, suddenly flushing. “She, um, wanted some tea.”

“And you failed to do that?” Even prompts slowly, mouth pursing with the effort not to grin.

Isak rolls his eyes, then pins them to the ground. “I used the tap water,” he admits.

Even laughs—loud and surprised and incredibly fond. His hugs Isak closer, and Isak rests his head on his shoulder, shaking with laughter himself. Even’s hand moves on his back, an encouraging, comforting touch.

“How does my always-get-a-6-at-bio boyfriend not know how to make _tea_?”

“I don’t know!” he murmurs against Even’s collarbone. “We had an electric kettle at the kollektiv.”

“Yeah, well, we have a _regular_ kettle.”

Isak disentangles himself. “What? This is the first I hear of it.”

“Cause you don’t drink tea. Come here.”

Even leads him to the kitchen. There really is no need to take him by the hand, but Isak is not complaining. Even doesn’t release him as he opens the tallest cabinet and takes out a kettle.

“How did that get in there?” Isak asks. “That was not there before!”

“Yes, it was, babe. Promise. Mom gave me when we moved in.”

“Well, you kept it… hidden up there,” he grumbles.

“If I knew you’d need it,” Even teases, kissing the top of his head, “I would’ve put it where you can reach.”

Isak swaths at him. Even laughs and swivels, placing himself behind Isak and pushing them towards the counter.

“Are you ready for your instruction?”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“Great. First we fill it with water,” he says, and as he does this, presses them even closer together. Isak huffs out a laugh. “And put it in the stove. Now I know you can turn this on.”

“It’s temperamental, Even,” he says, but manages it in the first try. “I swear, when you’re not here it just _stands_ there.”

“Hm,” Even murmurs, conciliatory. “Sure. Kettle on the fire. Now this is important—we only boil the water once, or the tea won’t taste as good.”

Isak narrows his eyes. “Okay.”

“And since we’re using tea bags, we don’t let it boil.”

He turns his head around. “You making this up?”

Even hesitates. “Sonja is a tea enthusiast,” he explains after a moment, arms closing in front of him. Isak rests back against his chest as they wait for the water. “I didn’t like it that much at first, but she always made it for me so I started enjoying it. It became a sort of tradition when I was down. When I don’t feel like eating, it’s… nice. Comforting.”

Isak places his hands on top of his. “So I guess I should learn as well,” he says, and feels Even’s smile against his neck.  

“Okay, now get the cups!” Even says. 

Isak plucks two from the dish rack. It’s a mismatched pair that they bought in the flea market, and it brings back the memory of a lovely day not too long ago, when he and Even picked a bunch of stuff for the apartment. They argued passionately over every piece, but not really, both not really caring about what things looked like—or even if they worked properly—as long it was theirs.

Isak hopes the cups never break. He can see them still using them in a year—two years—ten—and looking back on that day, and hopes he can still evoke the excitement of moving in with the boy he’s love with.

Even releases his waist as he turns off the stove and pours water on the two cups. Then he places saucers on top of them.

Isak grabs the tea bags from the cabinet and shakes them in the air. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I’m preheating the cup,” Even explains.

“What? Who does that?”

“People who don’t want their tea to grow cold in a minute, baby,” he explains. “Now we let it rest for the duration of… a kiss.”

Three kisses later, Even throws the water out. “ _Now_ comes the tea.” He places the two bags on the cups and pours the water after it. His arms find their way back around Isak as they watch the tea infuse the water with color. “We let it rest for a couple of minutes.” Then, absurdly, Even murmurs in his ear, “Isn’t this sexy?”

“We’re making _tea_ ,” Isak scoffs, trying to sound cool, as if he doesn’t notice Even’s chest against his back, his hands sneaking under Isak’s shirt. “I’m pretty sure this is the _least_ sexy thing there—ah—”

He loses the thought when Even nibbles at his ear, then kisses the spot where his ear meets his neck, and goes down, slowly, carefully, breath warm like the steam coming off the cups.

“Even.” He inhales sharply. “The tea will grow cold.”

“You can make more later,” Even says. “Show me if you got the lesson.”

“You think you’ve got a lot to teach me, huh?” Isak asks, eyes closing on their own will as Even’s mouth finds his shoulder.

“ _Well_ …” Even says against his skin. “I think of it more as a mutual learning experience.”

“Have you ever had tea after sex?” Isak asks. 

Even gives a startled laugh against his skin. “I don’t think so.”

“Good.” Isak takes a sip out of one the cups, then turns around in his boyfriend’s arms and gives him a sweet-tasting kiss. “It can be a new tradition.”


End file.
